Why Her?
by Megget18
Summary: Days after the infamous conversation, Felicity Smoak had a bone to pick with Oliver Queen and she just couldn't hold it in any longer. No matter how much he was trying to avoid her, he was going to hear what she had to say. One-Shot. Set after episode 2x06.


Author's Note: Hey all! So this is something that has been bugging me since last week's episode of Arrow (2x06). It's one of my favorite shows and I am hardcore Olicity shipper, but the conversation from last week bothered me for reasons that have nothing to do with the temporary crushing of Oliver and Felicity getting together and everything to do with it coming out of left field and in my opinion not doing Felicity (the best character ever!) any justice. The actors played it great and it was a touching scene, but I'm bitter. So this is my take on the aftermath of the conversation and a way to redeem my favorite IT girl! This is my first Arrow story and my first One-Shot so I hope you enjoy. For those of you who read my other stories, don't worry I'm not abandoning them for a different show I just couldn't get this off my mind! Read, enjoy and review if you can.

_Disclaimer: I don't own Arrow and I have no money so don't sue me. K, thanks!_

Why her?

Felicity had been feeling off all week. It had been days since the "Green Team" as she liked to call herself, Diggle, and Oliver in her head—though she would have to find a way to make sure the name never slipped out of her mouth—had returned from Russia and Felicity had spoken to Oliver about Isobel. Ever since then Oliver seemed to be avoiding her, which was quite the feat considering her desk is literally posted directly outside of his office. It was nothing obvious—he still came into work every day and they talked regularly as was necessary between a boss and his assistant, but it wasn't as friendly as usual. The casual comfort that had built up between them had suddenly become strained and Oliver seemed determined to keep Felicity and himself from being alone in a room together.

And every time it happened, Felicity got more and more angry. The night after they had talked about Isobel, it had taken Felicity several hours of consideration as well as several glasses of red wine to realize that she was actually really offended by what Oliver had implied.

She wasn't some heartsick puppy who hung on his every word, no matter how much she enjoyed watching him hang off of things shirtless—which she was just now realizing he did a lot. She was only human! How could she not watch that? But he couldn't see things her way. He only saw her as a jealous fool who needed to be coddled and let down easy.

All she had asked that day was _'Why her?'_ which was an entirely fair question and Oliver immediately jumped to his own conclusions. She had her reasons for being all 'judgey'—and they were good ones!

These were the thoughts that kept going through Felicity's head as she walked through the doors of Queen Consolidated on the brisk Thursday morning. She shivered off the chill from the cold morning air and clacked her way across the marble floors to the elevator. She smiled briefly at Tom, her favorite security guard, as he waved her through and adjusted the strap of her computer bag.

She pressed the up button to the elevator, the one at the far end of the hallway reserved for the top floor employees. Her job had its perks. She had to admit that she did miss her life in the depths of the IT office though—it was so much simpler there. She had even pulled her hair back in its signature ponytail this morning out of nostalgia. It was a look that she had rarely worn at the office with her recent job title change.

The elevator finally came and she stepped inside, ready for the long, solo ride up. She rummaged through her bag, looking for her ID card to swipe in order to move the elevator to the right floor. She actually hated this ride, it made her ears pop every time and had her wishing she was back in the IT basement. She really wasn't sure that she was all that suited for the top floor.

Just as the doors started to close, she heard a voice call out to hold it. She quickly shot her hand out to stop the doors, knowing that she would feel guilty for the rest of the day if she let them close. She waited patiently as the person continued to jog over. When Oliver came into view, she sighed—if it wasn't the cause of all her inner turmoil.

Oliver froze a little when he saw that it was her in the elevator. To anyone else it would have passed unnoticed, but to Felicity, who had seen how graceful and fluid he could be when he moved, the hesitation was clear.

"Hey," he said as he moved past her to enter the elevator, making sure that he didn't touch her.

She greeted him right back as she moved her hand from the doorway and settled to stand next to him.

They both faced forward as the doors closed them in. For Felicity the silence was unbearable. Normally she would be babbling about one thing or another, trying to elicit one of his rare smiles, but today there was only one conversation that she could even think about starting. It had been on her mind all morning and she couldn't shake it.

And as usual, Oliver wasn't going to be much of a conversation starter.

He whipped out his ID badge, swiping it through the elevator's card reader and punched the button for the top floor.

As soon as the elevator started ascending, Felicity felt like she had to get her worries off of her chest—like her only chance to really talk to him would be while she had him trapped in an elevator. Unless he pulled off a Hood style escape, but that would only prove her theory that he was avoiding her.

Felicity cleared her throat to make sure she had his attention. "I think you had the wrong idea the other day." She cut her eyes to him and noticed that he was still looking straight ahead.

"When would that be?"

"When I asked you about Isobel. And you said…well, you know what you said."

Oliver clenched his jaw but didn't say anything.

Clearly this entire conversation was up to her, which only pissed her off more. "And since then there's been this weird tension between us that really sucks. I don't want anything to be between us," she babbled. She winced at her last sentence, but pushed past it. "And it's all because you jumped to the wrong conclusion."

Oliver finally turned to look down at her, intrigued at what she was going to say next. "I'm pretty sure I didn't jump to any conclusions," he told her, remembering the conversation quite clearly.

Felicity actually guffawed at him. Any other time she might have been embarrassed by the sound that she made, but this time she was too annoyed to be embarrassed. "Excuse me, _sir_. I asked you an innocent question for a very good reason and instead of giving me a straight answer you dropped me just about the least subtle hint ever."

He crossed his arms over his chest and flicked his eyes to the numbers above the elevator doors, marking the seconds closer to his escape.

She snapped her hands in front of his face, instantly regretting the gesture when he leveled her with a glare. "Instead of having a real, adult conversation with me, you automatically threw me into the roll of the sad sap best friend who's in love with you!"

Oliver looked alarmed at her accusation.

Felicity's eyes widened when she realized the exact words that she had used. "And by best friend, I meant close employee." She tried to cover as she calmed herself down.

He honestly hadn't even blinked when she called herself his best friend. She was right—her and Diggle were the only ones who really knew who he was and who he was trying to be. It was her anger that threw him off. He knew there was something off between them lately, but he didn't realize that she was so angry. Had he really read their relationship so wrong? He didn't think so, but he never wanted to offend her, even accidentally. "That's not what I said," he tried to defend himself.

Felicity huffed at him. "Maybe not explicitly, Mr. Cryptic, but I'm pretty sure I'm one of the smartest people you know and I can read between the lines."

The elevator finally dinged and the doors opened to release them, but Felicity was extremely motivated. She ducked in front of Oliver and stretched out her limbs to block the exit.

Oliver looked at her liked she had lost it. "What are you doing?"

"Making sure you can't avoid me."

He rolled his eyes. "This is ridiculous."

"No!" she snapped. "You need to realize that I'm not Duckie!"

"What?"

Felicity gave him a look just then like he was the one who had gone insane. She looked so incredulous that he almost cracked a smile, but he was pretty sure that she'd slap him if he did that. "Come on, Oliver! You weren't on the island long. Duckie! _Pretty in Pink_! John Hughes!" She got louder and louder as she spoke, practically shouting in his face.

He shook his head. "Alright Felicity, it's time to move."

She didn't budge.

He took a step forward and she just stared at him with a challenge in her eyes. The only other person that he knew who was as hardheaded as Felicity Smoak was himself.

"Fine!" He scowled, swooped low to grab her by the waist, and hoisted her over his shoulder.

"Oh my God! What are you doing?" Felicity asked, completely panicked. "This is not how I imagined you wrapping your arms around me!" she prattled on as she tried to wiggle her way free.

Oliver had to admit that the wiggling was very distracting. He was very reluctant to let go and he didn't do so until they were both alone in his office.

Oliver moved to stand behind his desk as that he could put a good distance between them. "We cleared things up, we talked—so can we get to work now?" he asked even though he was pretty sure he knew the answer.

Felicity had been looking down to work on smoothing out the new wrinkles in her purple pencil skirt. When she heard his question, her eyes snapped to his. "No! The record isn't straight. It's still very curvy!" She took a deep breath. "I just want to explain what I really meant by my question."

Oliver nodded and sat down in his chair. "Go ahead."

"When I asked you, 'Why her?' it wasn't meant to be in a 'why her and not me' kind of way. That's how I think you took it and now there's like this awkward tension here. What I really meant was a legitimate question of why would you sleep _her_. She is not a nice person, Oliver. She's cold and condescending and she is literally looking for any way she can undermine you. She wants you crushed and it's like you're just giving her the hammer." A flush immediately ran up her cheeks.

"I guess I didn't look at it like that."

"Of course not. You weren't exactly thinking with your brain." She had to stop her gaze from drifting to the place he had been thinking from.

He actually laughed. It was the first time she had made him laugh in a while and it felt great.

She wasn't quite finished explaining herself though. "Since you two…happened, it's just a little harder to deal with her now. She looks at me like she won something—which is kind of gross—and she still treats me like I'm not even worthy of being in her presence. It bugs me," she said, admitting that maybe some of her issues with the Oliver-Isobel affair _were_ personal.

Oliver rose from his chair and moved around his desk to stand in front of her. He placed a hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry that she ever made you feel that way. And I'm sorry if I assumed or implied that you have feelings that don't exist. I never meant to hurt or offend you—ever. You don't deserve that." He ducked his head down to catch her eye and they held a long stare that seemed to say _a lot_ but neither of them was sure exactly what that was. "And trust me when I tell you that you are worth more than anyone I know—so just ignore Isobel. _She's_ not worthy of you."

Felicity rolled her eyes at him. It was sweet, but it was all talk. Still she couldn't contain the smile. "Thanks."

She moved away as though she was satisfied that they were now both on the same page, but his voice made her pause. "So are you saying that you weren't jealous at all?" That question nagged at him for some reason.

She faced him with her eyes narrowed. She couldn't tell why he was asking. Was he just curious or was it something else? She could only shrug. "It's not like I haven't watched you get with plenty of other women."

Oliver raised his eyebrows and quirked his head to the side.

"Ugh! Not 'get with'—date. And not like a creepy watching, just, um…just observing from afar." She scrambled to explain.

"I know what you meant."

She sighed. "I'm just trying to watch your back. At least with Helena, we knew her motives—we could see the gun aimed at our heads. Isobel Rochev seems much more calculating like someone who's willing to strike just as soon as she catches you sleeping." Felicity got lost in thought as she worried about the other woman who had always given off a sinister vibe in her opinion.

"That's not something you have to worry about," he promised.

She nodded and headed for the door. "You have a meeting with Walter in twenty minutes and then we should talk about your plans for your meet up with Roy tonight," she reminded him, slipping into her role as his assistant.

"Sounds good," he answered. "And Felicity!" She looked back at him. "I'm glad we talked."

She nodded with a little smirk etched into the side of her mouth and went to sit at her desk.

Oliver found himself watching her move and had to force himself to look away . He was glad that she had made him talk—he felt instantly better without the unspoken tension that had formed between them. Felicity was important to him and he didn't like feeling alienated from her. But there was also a small part of him that felt disappointed that his "assumption" had been wrong. He didn't know why, but he liked the idea that she cared for him as more than a boss and a friend. That seed of disappointment worried him though and he found himself hoping that he would be able to prevent it from growing into something more. Unfortunately he didn't think that would be an easy task.

Felicity glanced over through the glass walls of Oliver's office to see him fidgeting at his desk as he settled down to work. She was happy with how the conversation went even if she had been forced to trap him into having it. She felt the weight of the last week lifting and everything was starting to feel normal again. There was only one thing left that still tugged at her a little, but she knew that there was nothing that she could do about it. She would never admit it to anyone else but there was a tiny—scratch that, miniscule—part of her that lined up with Oliver's assumption. She _was_ Duckie—just a little bit, but Oliver didn't need to know that. She liked how their friendship worked and she was fine with it staying exactly as it was. For now.


End file.
